


Completely in Control

by NitroBarista



Category: Danganronpa, Danganronpa Killing Harmony, danganronpa v3 - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Burning, Choking, Dom/sub, Dominance, Gags, Intense, It IS consensual, M/M, Masks, NSFW, Oral, Orgasms, Rope Bondage, Scars, Shibari, Strangulation, Wax Play, candle play, dub/con, gagging, m/m - Freeform, non/con elements, scar mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28725885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NitroBarista/pseuds/NitroBarista
Summary: WARNING: This includes some heavy kink play, everything in this fic is fully consensual! Please proceed with caution.Korekiyo wants to play with Rantaro for a bit. Rantaro resists and puts up a fight to please his partner.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	Completely in Control

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is unedited! I got a little lazy and just wanted to get something out there, so I apologize for misspellings/run-on sentences. Enjoy!

Rantaro sat perfectly still in the room. Silent, minus the faint flickering from the circle of candles around his place in the room and his own shallow breathing. His breathing was labored, his body weak and tired, yet still he tugged at the ropes binding him in place. Each rope was done with such artistic care, laying perfectly flat against his skin, they didn’t overlap in any one spot. Each knot was done in a way they wouldn’t apply pressure directly to his skin or precious arteries keeping him alive, he was safe, yet felt quite the opposite. 

Nimble fingers traced each and every rope. Each knot and hitch keeping Rantaro bound to the old, rickety chair, the only piece of furniture in this entire room. The room itself was dank, it felt damp and wet while being completely dry. The walls were all the same wood as the flooring. There were loose nails, holes, and empty space that the flickering of candlelight seemed to accentuate. Rantaro was seeing shadows and things that weren’t really there, his eyes glazed and focused on the wick of the candles below him. He could feel the pressure of his rigger’s fingers where they were on their trek of following each rope if he focused hard enough. Before long, he was tensing as they traced up his arms. Each arm was bound tight behind his back, done up in a double column restraint, keeping him snug to the unpadded chair. 

“You look quite beautiful in red,” the masked man purred, his voice a hum of a whisper placed directly at the back of Rantaro’s ear. He could feel each vowel and syllable, the bump of lips behind fabric, speaking to him and only him. Both of those hands were now resting against his shoulders, the weight comparable to that of a bird, light and hardly present. It was as if everything Korekiyo did was with undetectable care, the way he breathed was practically silent in itself, and each word he spoke was well rehearsed and sent chills up Rantaro’s spine. No one else could make him feel this way, normally he was quite fearless, but something about Korekiyo interested him to no end. And the statement was true. Rantaro’s scarred porcelain skin was bound with red nylon rope that was stark in contrast to his skin tone. It was beautiful, especially in the dull orange light that the candles produced. “I’d love to see more of you like this.” Korekiyo hummed, pulling back away from Rantaro’s ear after his sentence was finished.

Korekiyo left a single hand on Rantaro’s left shoulder, circling around to face the man head on instead of remaining behind. Each step was placed with ease, just as silent as his breathing, and Rantaro watched him with eager eyes. Korekiyo’s face was as hard to read as it always was, the sharpness of his eyes gave nothing away. He was as solid as stone, Rantaro thought, watching the skinny man swing a thin leg over his lap. The long haired one sat directly on Rantaro, straddling him without a care in the world about how much weight the terrible chair could handle, feeling it creak underneath the two of them. Rantaro tensed as Korekiyo leaned in, using his shoulders now as elbow rests, his lengthy dark hair becoming a curtain around the two of them. A curtain Rantaro could see the candlelight behind, and what a strange feeling it left, his hair blocking the light and casting shadows along his face. Korekiyo was gorgeous, Rantaro thought, giving a subconscious tug at the ropes along his arms. His eyes were so sharp, eyebrows thin and angled in amusement. He had high set cheekbones and a jawline anyone would kill to have- and Rantaro knew it. He stared back, however, his eyes narrow as he gave another shove at the ropes. 

“Rantaro…” Korekiyo hummed, a single finger being placed at the dip of his clavicle. It pressed down hard at the pressure point, making the green haired man tense and wince slightly. The other grinned, shifting to be closer to his bound subject, gliding the cold digit upwards. Up over Rantaro’s adam’s apple, up to the base of his chin, using it as a leverage point to turn his head directly upwards. “I know this is what you want.” He states, his voice never leaving the sultry whisper tone “Give into me.” He commands, hooking a finger in the makeshift gag to pull it downward. He gave Rantaro no time to catch his breath before connecting their lips to one another, kissing him gently behind his own mask, the thin fabric keeping them apart. He kissed him with his tongue, teasing the rope bunny beneath him by licking at his lips, Rantaro squirming under Korekiyo’s weight. He didn’t stop kissing him like this, hands sliding down his partner’s chest, feeling and touching his toned body through his snug shirt, thumbs brushing over and teasing each nipple beneath the fabric. Rantaro resisted as much as he could, but those ropes weren’t letting up no matter what he did. He could feel himself getting hot under the collar, his cheeks were flushed, his breath escaping him as Korekiyo used those fingers along his body, a single hand back up to Rantaro’s throat. “Stop moving,” he purred, his hand slowly adding pressure to either side of the adventurer’s throat, squeezing the pressure points and closing off his windpipe. He didn’t cease kissing him either, using his free hand to remove his own mask before shoving his tongue into Rantaro’s mouth. There was something so erotic about kissing someone who can’t breathe. The way he gasped and clawed at nothing for air was entirely being abused by Korekiyo’s wet tongue glazing over his teeth, sucking gently at his tongue too before finally releasing his throat. His hand stayed present, ready to squeeze the second Rantaro wasn’t about to pass out. 

It went on like this for some time, Rantaro resisting, Korekiyo forcing his way into the man’s mouth and choking him until he was seeing stars. Then he would stop, and repeat the process, until he could feel the tightness of the bound one’s jeans below himself. Both were visibly aroused, and it was time to satisfy that. Korekiyo pulled away with soft pants escaping his own throat, watching the undone Rantaro beneath him struggle to find oxygen. He was so far gone, Korekiyo thought, finally releasing his partner’s throat without a care in the world. That didn’t matter. He was here purely for the Ultimate Anthropologists’ enjoyment. 

“Rantaro, wake up beautiful.” He hummed, both hands gripping at the hem of Amami’s shirt. The man stirred beneath him, eyes glazed and half lidded as he stared up at Korekiyo. HIs expression was relatively beaten but with a hunger underneath. A desperate need for more, and he gave a broken smile. A smile that Korekiyo returned with a smirk, and tugged the fabric apart. He ripped the shirt up from the center, all the way to Rantaro’s neck, leaving his chest fully exposed. The skin here was just as pale and pretty as the rest of the man, his chest also littered in pinkish scars. Over his heart and along his side were the largest of them, the rest were smaller and deeper and absolutely everywhere. The Anthropologist admired the flesh, gingerly tracing the patterns these scars created with a single hand as the other reached back behind himself and towards the floor. He gripped the base of a candle in his hand while the other found Rantaro’s nipple, gently brushing over the nerves and pinching lightly, listening to the soft helpless noises from his throat as his hips bucked upwards as much as they could. He was getting desperate.   
“Soon,” the rigger promised, lifting the still burning candle into view. The wax was hot, dripping down over his hand and falling onto his jeans as he displayed it for his partner. The flame flickered tall and strong, Rantaro watching it for a few moments, dazed by the orange light, before he turned to study Korekiyo’s expression. Korekiyo grinned, bracing a single dainty hand down on Rantaro’s lower stomach before tipping the candle over. The green haired man watched in slow motion as the melted wax slid from underneath the burning flame down the side of the candle. It trailed over Korekiyo’s slim fingers, down, beading at the base of the candle before falling. Falling a few inches onto his skin. He flinched at the initial pain, the burning hot of the wax as it was dripped along his body for a few moments before it ceased. Together they watched the wax dry, watched the skin around it become red and irritated from the heat. And then again, slower this time, Korekiyo repeated each step. The tip of the candlestick, the slow ebb of the wax’s flow, beading before falling and collecting in pools in each dip and cranny of Rantaro’s exposed chest and stomach. He was thankful for being relatively hairless, reveling in the pleasure and pain of the heat as it trailed and dried on his body. Korekiyo looked so calm, so restrained on Rantaro’s lap, even with the pressure of both of their crotches flush to one another. The way the dribbled and dripped the burning hot wax was just as meticulous as everything else he does. It was masterfully and artistically executed, especially as it got closer and closer to Rantaro’s sensitive nipples. The man on top bowed his head, locking golden eyes with green, pressing the softest of kisses to the other’s chest. His lips feathering across the skin, tongue slowly slipping to lick and lap at the sensitive bud before pulling back. He ate up the sounds from his partner, indulging him with small sucks and bites before replacing his mouth and tongue with wax. Rantaro shuddered beneath him, tightening his hands into balled fists as he gasped and cried out hoarsely in a mix of pleasure and pain. 

It was all getting to be too much. The tightness of his pants, the burning and cooling sensations of the wax, the way his throat was bruised in the shape of Korekiyo’s fingers and the rubbing of the nylon rope. It was all pushing him into a greater and more desperate need for escape and release. He felt like he could pass out right here and now, never waking up to see the light of day again, or that he would simply just die like this. A death he no longer feared. Lucky for him, Korekiyo’s own desire was becoming more and more prominent, and the need for torturing Rantaro was starting to lose its effect. But god how beautiful did he look like this. Bound, breathless, covered in dried wax and torn clothing. He looked undone. Truly gone, and Korekiyo smiled, gracing the side of Rantaro’s cheek with the back of his hand. He trailed this hand back down, trailing over his chest and lower abdomen to the button on his pants. Finally, it was time. 

With ease Korekiyo worked open Rantaro’s button and zipper with one hand, for the other still clutched the base of the nearly gone candle.Slowly, he pressed the palm of his hand against Rantaro’s cock, rubbing against it through both layers of fabric just to feel him buck upwards into the touch. The ropes keeping him down, but oh the desperate look on his face was so darling to watch. Rantaro was nothing but a toy at this point, and his assailant was drinking it up. Feeling a bit of mercy for the bound man, he finally dropped the candle and freed Rantaro’s dick from the confines of his pants. He pulled the member free from the fabric and slipped off the man, sinking down between the spread thighs. He pushed his hair back over one shoulder, making eye contact with his partner as he brought the tip to his lips. The dick was swollen, painfully so, the whole shaft hard. The tip was cut, precum beading and leaking needily from the tip, and without much hesitation he finally brought it into his mouth. Starting slowly, Korekiyo dragged his tongue over the head, caressing the underside and sucking lightly, watching Rantaro roll his head back and moan for him, his hips once again thrusting upward. The attempt was futile, but didn’t stop him from trying again and again, dropping his head back down to watch the master take him further into his throat. Korekiyo eased himself onto the length, taking an inch in before going back up, making sure to hollow his cheeks and take more in with each downward shift. Before long, his face was pressed against Rantaro’s pelvis, the entire length deep in his mouth. It was taking every bit of himself not to sputter and choke, but he pulled through. Within moments he was setting a steady pace, feeling each bump and grove of Rantaro’s cock, the thickness making his jaw hurt and tears spill down over his cheeks. Rantaro’s moans were getting louder, his desperation growing,slurring out Korekiyo’s name and unintelligible words of praise as he was finally brought to his release. Korekiyo pulled off of the shaft with a loud, wet popping sound, using his hand to pump along the length to bring him fully to completion. Rantaro came with a loud cry, thick ropes of cum coating Korekiyo’s face and his hands as he continued to assist in riding out the orgasm. 

Rantaro had nearly passed out after he had come, completely immobile and gasping desperately for air. He looked like he was about to die, Korekiyo thought, standing upright as he undid his belt and dropped his pants to the floor, using the end of his sleeve to wipe his face clean of mess. He spat on the wooden floor, cracking his knuckles before once again straddling Rantaro. This time, on his knees, letting them press harshly against his poor partner’s thighs. He knew it hurt, he thought, one hand holding the base of his cock as the other raised and tangled in the curly, sweat plastered green hair of Amami. He forcefully jerked his head back upright, watching Rantaro sway and blink up at him, fully dazed over and undone. Korekiyo smiled sweetly at him, wiping a tear off the man’s cheek before pushing his dick against those sweet parted lips. “Good boy.” He purred, nudging them apart further and further until he was able to slip himself into the wet entrance. Rantaro’s mouth was so hot, so fucking wet and just perfect. The gentle graze of teeth along Korekiyo’s own shaft made him lose his mind, gripping tighter on Rantaro’s hair as leverage. He didn’t waste time, trusting in and out of Amami’s mouth, using him as nothing but a fleshlight. He reveled in the feeling of Rantaro’s tongue at the underside of his cock, the tightness of his throat each time he hit it, listening to the way he started choking. Rantaro stared at him with wide eyes, drooling profusely out the sides of his mouth as he was used. He could no longer breathe or even move, all he could do was take it until Korekiyo pulled out and finished on his face. All over his face and chest, joining in with the dried wax and the spit, he was finally pleased enough to leave Rantaro alone. 

\----------------------

“Rantaro, are you sure you’re alright?” Korekiyo asked, concern laced in his tone as he brushed his fingers through his boyfriend’s curly hair, holding him close to his chest. They now lay together in a warm drawn bath, Korekiyo scrubbing his partner’s body clean of all wax and other residue, keeping his touch gentle and soft. Rantaro was smiling, nodding as he fumbled for the washcloth to help, but Korekiyo gently pushed his hands away. “Let me care for you.” He said softly, pressing easy, gentle kisses to Rantaro’s cheeks and forehead, kissing over his eyelids and his nose as well. They had done scenes similar to this, but not this intensive, and Korekiyo wanted to ensure that his partner was safe and in a healthy state of mind. They continued to bathe together, Korekiyo finishing up cleaning both of them off and assisting in getting Rantaro dressed. Applying cream to the leftover burns from wax and rope before they headed to bed, tangled up in the blankets with one another all night, sleeping in past their alarms.   
“I love you, Amami.”  
“I love you too.”


End file.
